


Dragon Age Noire: The Red Lyrium Chapters

by eternalshiva



Series: DA Noire: The Red Lyrium Chapters [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, Community Fic on Tumblr, Digital Art, Dragon Age Noire AU, F/M, Tumblr Prompt, Violence, fic with art
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-09 07:48:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3241868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalshiva/pseuds/eternalshiva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thedas is in turmoil - Justinia has been murdered and the government is at a standstill, bickering on what needs to be done while the streets are filled with the illegal alcohol substance known as Red Lyrium. Bootleg Booze and drugs  wasn't new to their world but this particular combo had nasty side effects - the heaviest users would become mindless, their appearances changing to grotesque and they would only answer to one person: Cory Pheus, a man with roots to crime that tied themselves to the oldest families in Tevinter.</p><p>While seeking the truth behind the Red Lyrium trade, a private investigator and a detective go missing while undercover. It's a race against time to find them and put an end to it before Cory Pheus takes control of Thedas. (translated in Russian)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Credits and Thanks

I would like to credit the following people on Tumblr for giving ideas, art and participating in creating this DA!Noire AU. This is entirely a community effort and I was initially tagged into writing this, and I was happy to oblige. 

 

[Art by Greendelle](greendelle.tumblr.com)

**Idea:** the-assquisitor for posting it, and greendelle for tagging me.

 

**The following artists for contributing art that inspired a lot of this writing:**

  * picchar
  * niklisson
  * donc-desole
  * lady-jeanclaude
  * willobae
  * therealmcgee
  * thefereldenheroisanelf
  * feylen
  * pissedchan
  * qissus
  * dolkienne
  * greendelle



 

**A soundtrack to write to:**

  * Jelendrake [[you can listen to it here](http://8tracks.com/jelenedrake/dragon-age-noire-the-red-chapters)]



 

**Ideas and suggestions for characters:**

  * Jelendrake (Samson, Calpernia, Meredith, Cullen's medical condition, Blackwall's backstory}
  * picchar (Vivienne)
  * dragondizzy (Blackwall)
  * thefereldenheroisanelf (Cassandra's backstory)
  * And many anons, who I wish I could credit directly but they did not reveal who they were to me. 



 

 


	2. Time's Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Compromised. The word was wedged in the back of his throat, scratching its way down with every syllable as he tried to swallow the weight of its meaning. He had trouble understanding just what it implied. 
> 
> Russian Translation: ficbook. net/readfic/2856614

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here goes nothing ;o

_“Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize you?”_ Samson’s voice sounded weird, muffled through the walls of the room they kept the _traitor_ in.

 _“I wouldn’t be surprised if you hadn’t, considering how fucked-“_ The strike was hard, enough to make the prisoner grunt – Sera didn’t miss the spitting sound. She shook her head when the interrogation began again. _“Losing your touch, Sammy baby, I still have all my teeth.”_

 _“I like your mouth, Fern,”_ there was a long pause, Sera could hear the fumble of tools on a table inside the room. _“I’ll send Cullen some teeth after I pull them out with this.”_ The short musical laughter that filled the room was short-lived, there was another hit and this time it drew more than just a grunt from Fernweh.

 _“Open up, sweetheart,”_ Samson was grinning, Sera could hear it in his voice and she shuddered, there was so much malice there too.

 _“I only open my pretty mouth for Cullen, Samson.”_ She quipped back, without missing a beat.

“ _Real cute_ ,” Sera had to hold back a snort of laughter after Samson replied – leave it to the boss to be snarky when she was about to get her teeth pulled for keeping her mouth shut.

From the corner of her eye, Sera noticed another man approaching the closed door and knocking quickly. He fidgeted with documents in his hands before knocking again.

“ _It’s your lucky day,”_ Samson sneered, dropping the metallic object on the ground… maybe the table. Sera couldn’t tell distinctively from here. The door swung open and Samson stood at the entrance, wiping his hands on a cloth. “What is it?”

“Sir, we have reports of another shipment being delayed.”

“Again?” Samson took the papers, quickly reading through them before looking back into the room, shaking his head. “Information can’t be leaking from her, she’s been in here for a week.” He went back in, the lights turned off and he spoke more words to Fernweh that Sera didn’t catch, there was too much talking from the other man as he followed Samson into the room.

“Let’s go,” Samson locked the door behind himself and fixed his jacket before motioning the man to lead him ahead. Sera took a step back into the shadows, watching Cory’s men walk away, but she swallowed nervously when Samson stopped and looked towards her direction.

Had he seen her? She couldn’t tell.

Sera wondered, chewing on her thumb nail, her thoughts flipping from one side of reason to another. What had given her up, what had Fernweh done to bring attention to herself? When she was sure the two men had gone, she made her way to the door and pressed her ear against it.

Listening, Waiting.

Nothing – there was no sound behind the door. Just her own heartbeat, which made her nervous. She turned the knob, testing the lock before kneeling and taking out her tools from her back pocket. She made quick work of it, grinning at the sound of the lock being undone and held her breath. The hinges creaked and groaned at the effort, making her wince with paranoia.

“Don’t lose it now, Sera.” She was past the point of no return and even if she was caught at this point, she’d be in the same situation as her friend. Quietly, she steeped into the dark room, glancing back only for a moment and shut the door.

“Fern?” she whispered, her eyes not yet adjusted to the lack of light. There was a rush of adrenaline in her blood, what had happened to the boss? It was _too_ silent. She reached out into the darkness, her feet finding something hard and it took everything in her not to let out a string of profanities. _Maker’s breath, was that a chair? Shit._

“F-Fernweh?” Sera called out, a little louder once she was sure there was no one else in the room besides her and the chair that destroyed her toe. She leaned down to rub her foot, her eyes still seeking a shape, or anything really, that was familiar. Her fingers felt something sticky on the floor. She frowned, rubbing the digits together and sniffed it.

Blood.

She caught the sound of breathing, laboured, close to her; she had a knot the size of a fist in the center of her throat. Samson… he’d crossed the line, she thought harshly, vengeance almost burning her tongue.

“Fernweh, please… _please_ answer me.” She whispered harshly, her eyes burning.

“S-s-sera?”

Relief flooded her; it was her voice, _sort of_.

“You little shit, why would you take so long to answer? Or make a noise, or something, yeah?” Sera whisper-shouted out, her words almost tripping over each other – she finally found the other woman in the dark, her fingers looking for rope or _something_. She could feel Fernweh’s clothes under her touch but they felt weird, grimy – even crusty.

“S-Sorry,” Fernweh stuttered apologetically before letting out a groan when Sera pressed down on some bruises she didn’t even know were there. “Damn, they didn’t hold back, even a little.” She spat out the words, her tongue tentatively licking her lips. There was a split that was still bleeding, but her teeth were all there.

“Shit,” Sera was starting to understand the shape her friend was in as she felt around. They couldn’t walk out of here.

“Sera, I need you to do something, for me.”

The elf was ignoring the request, she was focused on the damage… she was focusing on not letting her rage brim over the edges of her calm. She had to _focus_.

“Sera.”

“What? I’m busy – _Shit_ , how could you let this happen, yeah?” She stopped fidgeting with the bindings, she’d have to leave her here and that didn’t sit well with her. She needed to get her _out_ of here, get her safe. But… Cory would be after them in a heartbeat and she wasn’t sure what the worst option was.

“ _Sera_ , listen.” Fernweh sighed out her name, it hurt to smile but she couldn’t help it. “Reach into my shirt, inside my bra there’s a little pocket-“

“You want me to touch your tits, right now?” Sera exclaimed, laughter filling the room for a brief moment. “A little bold, isn’t, inquizzie. What would your boyfriend think of that now?”

Fernweh chuckled – the thought of Cullen was never far from her mind but she couldn’t think of him right now – she had to survive this. The mission was going to fail if she stopped here. The pain was coming back in waves and it was getting harder to stay awake despite the distraction.

“Take the note there, a-a-and…” she sucked in a breath, everything ached – she was sure she had broken ribs, “and take it to…”

“Yeah, I know.” Sera stood up, carefully reached into the torn short and dug around the bra, looking for the small pocket. She found a small slip of paper, a drop of blood had made it’s mark on it – she could feel the wetness of it with her fingers. She listened to her friend in the darkness for a minute longer and then did as she was told. “I got it.”

“Good,” Ferweh swallowed hard, licking her lips. She was really thirsty.

“You know,” the elf started, twisting her hands together, “I gotta get out of here and I can’t take you with me.”

“I know.” Her boss chuckled, she could almost make out her outline in the dark. Almost.

“Take care, okay? I mean…” she couldn’t quite finish the thought; Sera was already turned on her heels, grasping the knob of the door. She squeezed the handle when her friend sighed, she didn’t sound so good.

“I’ll be fine,” Fernweh promised.

 _Sort of_.

Sera wanted to believe her, she really did. She didn’t look back when she stepped out the door and disappeared.

* * *

Art by [therealmcgee](http://therealmcgee.tumblr.com/post/109053727709/dragon-age-noire-cullen-pt-1-hell-of-a-day)

 _She was laughing, the sound of her voice is drifting across the room and tingling his ears._ He leaned against his desk, throwing his hat behind him, loosening his tie before patting his back pocket for his pack of smokes.

He took a long drag, blowing the smoke between his lips before putting his hand back down against the desk and passing the other one through his hair.

"You know," he heard the tapping of her high heels against the hard wood floors as she made her way back from his bathroom, "you didn’t have to do that."

"Do what?" Cullen pressed his index and thumb against his nostril and wiped at some of the blood. He winced, noticing the stains on his _one_ good shirt. _Typical_.

"Don’t be daft." She turned the corner from the hall and into his office, white towel in hand with a glass of water in the other. For a moment, she took in the sight of him - he was messy, bloody and his shirt was pulled out of his pants haphazardly. The cigarette smoke, she could do without, but it added a bit of mystery to the man, she had to admit.

"I’m not being _daft_ , per say.” He smirked at her, taking another drag before she stood in front of him. She placed the glass on the desk and she sighed, pushing away a stray strand of hair from his forehead. His hair was curling again, something she was quite fond of.

"Yes, you are." She dampened the cloth a bit by dipping it down into the glass and extended her hand towards him. He looked at her in confusion. "Your hand, it’s bleeding."

His brows shot up in surprise as she took his hand into hers and pressed the cloth against the wounds. He hadn’t even noticed.

"When did that happen?"

"Oh, probably when you knocked Samson in the teeth, or maybe it was when you busted the car window to drag him out of it." She quipped, unimpressed.

He hummed, trying to recall exactly what happened. His mind was still buzzing with the adrenaline and the close proximity of Fernweh wasn’t making things easy.

"I don’t… uh," he hissed, the cloth scraping against a piece of glass embedded in his flesh. She smiled sheepishly in apology, shrugging. "I didn’t _drag_ him out.” He gave her his other hand when she motioned for it, while he inspected the clean one. The wounds were only superficial, nothing more.

"I think pulling a full grown man out of a window while he’s yelling for you to stop counts as dragging." She deadpanned, dipping the cloth again to clean it.

"It’s a minor detail."

"An important one," she quickly retorted, Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged, and the holstered guns under his arms swung uncomfortably into his armpits. The leather felt a bit constricting right then. She shook her head at him, sighing but she stopped reprimanding him and leaned forward, their gazes meeting for a brief moment.

He felt his face flush a bit, still not used to her proximity, even if they’ve kissed a few times before.

"You know, it’s only been a week since you left the force," her voice was low, close to his ear as she dabbed at the blood on his face. "Maybe picking a fight with old chums isn’t the best-" she pressed her lips together, trying to think of the right way to say it.

"It’s not the very best first impression I want to make for my new business?" he murmured, putting his hand on her hip to pull her close. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled at him.

"No, it isn’t." Fernweh’s gaze was gentle, regardless of her tone - that’s what he liked about her.

"Well, he deserved it." He mumbled, she moved in a little closer, biting her lower lip.

"I’m a big girl, I can fight my own battles - especially ones from Samson. He hits like a wet paper bag." She snorted, her gaze now focused on his lips. The tip of his tongue darted out, to her pleasure.

"True, but he was a bit of a jackass, drinking that red- Ouch!" He flicked his hand away, pushing her away suddenly when he realized that he’d forgotten all about his cigarette and it had burned down to the stub, searing the flesh of his fingers. He heard the glass of water shattering on the floor and he sighed, shoulders drooping in defeat.

"Maker’s breath," he grumbled, but Fernweh chuckled - cupping his face in her hands and kissing him, tenderly.

"It’s been a hell of a day, huh?" she murmured against his lips, he smiled nodding, kissing her again.

" _Wake up_ ," she whispered, just as someone knocked at his door.

Cullen’s eyes flutter open, sitting up and wiping his mouth as the second knock hits the glass. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts and his baring. He blinked against the light in his window, he was still in his office. He couldn’t recall… he checked the floor - no broken glass - Fernweh wasn’t here last night, then.

"Cullen?" Cassandra’s voice brought him back to reality, he rubbed his forehead and groaned, how long had he slept?

“I’m awake,” He shouted, clearing his throat, his hand reaching out to grasp the piece of paper he had been looking at before he fell asleep last night.

_Compromised._

The word… com- _pro_ -mised… was wedged in the back of his throat, scratching its way down with every syllable as he tried to swallow the weight of its meaning. He had trouble _understanding_ just what it implied.

He smoothed out the wrinkles of the paper and scrutinised the handwriting. He mouthed the word again, his index finger trailing against the hard curved lettering. There was no mistaking it, it was her writing. He had seen it enough in her reports, letters, in her journals… On their wedding certificate.

What worried him was the reddish brown stain on the bottom left. It was smeared across the word, the ink under the stain, so it only appeared after she wrote the message. But the question remained, whose blood was it? Why was it only a one word message? _What_ was compromised? The mission? The investigation? Was _she_ compromised?

Cullen licked his lips and placed the note back down on his desk, eyeing the ashtray for a moment before leaning forward and rubbed his hands across his face. There was a heaviness in his gut that he hadn’t felt in years and it made him uneasy, he didn’t want to stir up old ghosts just then.

“Maker’s breath.” He picked up his pack of cigarettes and thumbed the package before he leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. What should he do? What _could_ he do?

“May I come in?” Cassandra opened his office door, as she spoke the words – she never really asked, only announced and he didn’t mind. She leaned against the frame, crossing her arms in the process and he couldn’t help but notice her very concerned expression.

“What?” He passed his fingers roughly through the curls of his hair. “You seem concerned.”

“You could say that. You may want to read this.” She stepped towards him, the folded paper seemingly appearing out of nowhere in her hands and dropped it in front of him, the front page spread out for him to see. Justinia stared back at him, smiling.

“What’s hap-“ The headline caught his attention, his breath catching mid-sentence. _Mayor Justinia, murdered!_

“Murdered?” The shock was almost overwhelming – he skimmed the article quickly, she was meeting with officials to discuss the bootleg trade that had overtaken the city since Tevinter had focused its attention onto Thedas. He flipped through the pages, trying to find the rest of the article. He couldn’t help but sense that there was something a little unusual about the writing, it seemed a bit more… flamboyant than necessary.

“This… has very little information.” He frowned, putting the paper down and folding his hands on top of it.

“That would be because Varric wrote it.” Cassandra grunted, unimpressed. Cullen smirked, her general distrust of the dwarf was a source of entertainment he would never tire of.

“Ah, he would certainly keep everyone _out_ of the loop, instead of in.” He chuckled but Cassandra only made a noise in response. “Maybe we should have a little conversation with him.” He offered her and she nods in agreement.

“I’ll contact him,” Cassandra straightened her shirt, fiddling with the cuff before she started to step back towards the door. “I’ll get in touch with Leliana, also – she might have some information to give on what happened to Justinia and... well, you know.”

“Yes, good idea,” He stood, picking up the note from Fernweh and slipping it into his front shirt pocket, tapping it safely. Cassandra didn’t miss the gesture. He rubbed the back of his neck to ease the ache and looked at the cabinet, he had to pull out all of her reports, he had to comb through the investigation all over again. He was missing something and if she was in danger...

“You think she is related to our little problem?” She placed her hands on her hips.

“I’m not sure,” he sighed, his attention on the files he pulled free from the cabinet. He thumbed the paper quickly, “The timing seems rather… _unusual_. And it’s not like I can ask her, we only met once every few months, even less so lately since she’s deep into her investigation.”

Not only that, but they never saw each other, in fear of compromise. That _word_ again, he didn’t really have to say it, he was sure the two events were related.

“To work, Cassandra.” He quipped, and she turned away from him, her list of things to check on growing by the minute, she didn’t get far though, the bell buzzed across the office, nearly startling her into a shout.

Taking a breath to calm herself, she marched over to the intercom and pressed the dial, speaking quite irritably.

“Who is it?”

“Umm, yes,” the voice crackled through the device, the noise on the street was making it hard to hear but it wasn’t a voice she’d soon forget. The man was positively insufferable if he had a hunch of any sorts, relentless if she dared say. “This is Detective Therin and Detective Aclassi, we’re looking to speak with Cullen.”

Cassandra narrowed her eyes, things were getting more and more “coincidental” than she liked.

“I know who you are. You are free to come up.” She buzzed them in and made her way to Cullen’s office, letting him know he was expecting company, to which he groaned. Loudly.

He stood up from his desk, eyeing Fernweh’s picture while straightening out his shirt. He tucked it into his pants while stepping out around the large piece of furniture, he quickly checked his reflection in the mirror, trying to get his unruly curls under control - but only his wife can manage that - he tried to ignore the pang of hurt in his chest.

"Cigarettes?" he mumbled as he patted his chest, looking around quickly before spotting them in his tweed jacket. Grabbing the coat, he stepped through the door and greeted his visitors.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” Cullen nodded at the men standing in the waiting area, Alistair removed his hat and tipped it toward him, smiling. Krem only squinted his eyes before doing the same as his partner and tucking the hat under his arm. Cullen motioned for them to come inside and they oblige him willingly.

“Good afternoon, sorry for bothering you,” Alistair seated himself down at the front of the desk while Krem leaned back against the wall near the door. Cullen made his way around his desk, shaking his head at the question.

“It’s no bother,” He sat, twirling the chair slightly with his weight before folding his hands on the desk. “What can I do for you, Detective Alistair?”

“Well, actually, to be perfectly honest, our investigation has brought us to _you_.” Alistair leaned back into the seat while crossing his leg. He watched the private detective carefully as he thoughtfully thumbed his hat.

“And what investigation would that be?” Cullen feigned interest, he was well aware of what they’re speaking of, his informant inside the police force had been keeping track of their activities since Fernweh has gone undercover – the F.A.D.E. activity underground had also nearly come to a stop so he wasn’t surprised that the police were now at his door, sniffing for clues.

“Uh, well, as you’re probably aware, a former colleague of yours has been…”

“Busy with the underground Red Lyrium booze trade,” Krem interrupted, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “You wouldn’t know anything about that now, would you?”

Cullen blinked, a bit taken aback from the slight hostility. “Which colleague?” He was genuinely curious, he hadn’t heard any of this from his informant. Time to shake things up a bit, he took note.

“Samson,” Alistair gave his partner a glare, which didn’t faze the man in the least, but Cullen only swallowed hard and suddenly, things were making sense. A lot of sense.

_Compromised._

He had a bad feeling in his gut.

“Ah, that colleague.” Cullen pressed his lips together, “I fear I do have some information for you but you know the drill.” Cullen smiled, tightly.

“Tit for tat.” Alistair said, pleased at the good news, for once.

“ _Tit for tat_ , indeed,” Cullen replied gravely.


End file.
